At first, he paid no great
attention to the character of these sounds, but as they drew nearer, he
became aware that the footstep was unlike those of Alice; indeed, as
unlike as could be, very regular, slow, yet not firm, so that it seemed
to be that of an aged person, sauntering listlessly through the rooms. We
have often alluded to Middleton's sensitiveness, and the quick vibrations
of his sympathies; and there was something in this slow approach that
produced a strange feeling within him; so that he stood breathlessly,
looking towards the door by which these slow footsteps were to enter. At
last, there appeared in the doorway a venerable figure, clad in a rich,
faded dressing-gown, and standing on the threshold looked fixedly at
Middleton, at the same time holding up a light in his left hand. In his
right was some object that Middleton did not distinctly see. But he knew
the figure, and recognized the face. It was the old man, his long since
companion on the journey hitherward.
"So," said the old man, smiling gravely, "you have thought fit, at last,
to accept the hospitality which I offered you so long ago. It might have
been better for both of us--for all parties--if you had accepted it
then!"
"You here!" exclaimed Middleton. "And what can be your connection with
all the error and trouble, and involuntary wrong, through which I have
wandered since our last meeting? And is it possible that you even then
held the clue which I was seeking?"
"No,--no," replied Rothermel.
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